


something you cannot mend

by ShyAudacity



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Archie Andrews Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e11 Chapter Eleven: To Riverdale and Back Again, Gen, Homeless Jughead Jones, Hurt Jughead Jones, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, M/M, Mentioned Betty Cooper, Mentioned Fred Andrews, Mentioned Geraldine Grundy | Jennifer Gibson, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sad Jughead Jones, could be gay if you squint, do what you want, mary and jugs friendship wasnt a tag im appalled, or it you wanna read it that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity
Summary: Once he’s actually on the bus, he has half a mind to toss his phone out the window, but doesn’t. Jughead just turns it off and stuffs it into the bottom of his bag where he won’t have to think about it.He forgets about his phone until nearly a month later.He’s digging around in his bag, swears he has another shirt in there somewhere when it jumps out at him, its dark screen reflecting his own blank face. Jughead pulls it out, rubs his thumb over the smooth sides; he hasn’t spoken to anyone since he left Riverdale, hasn’t had a good enough reason to.He stares at his phone a while then drops it back into his bag, tries to put it out of his memory. Jughead gives it another day before deciding to turn it on, tells himself that it’s just to make sure his friends know that he’s okay- it’s not like anything worse could have happened while he was gone, right?Boy, was he wrong.ORThe one where Jughead actually does get on the bus to Florida and then finds a really good reason to come back.





	something you cannot mend

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [it's not air that you need](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11565546) by [intoxicatelou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/pseuds/intoxicatelou). 



> NaNoWriMo is starting today so this might be my last fic for a little bit. The fic that inspired this one is amazing and all of you should definitely go read it, it's one of my all time faves. 
> 
> Unbeta'd and title from Nothing Left For You by Sam Smith.

The moment that Fred Andrews tell him that his father has been arrested for murder is the worst moment of Jughead’s life- and that’s saying something, even for him.

He goes back to the trailer, makes an even bigger mess alongside of the one Sheriff Keller and his deputies made, then angry cries into the floor until he can’t anymore, until he’s seemingly run dry. Jughead decides inside of ten seconds that he needs to leave town- what has this city ever done besides hurt him? There’s nothing here for him now that his dad is locked up; he doesn’t feel like sticking around just to watch his whole life fall apart again.  

As he stuffs random shirts and jeans into his backpack, his phone won’t stop ringing; most of the calls are from Betty, but he ignores them all. Archie’s face pops up a few times, and Jughead almost answers; he gets as far as picking up the phone before remembering how angry he is with all of them.  

_They lied. All of them lied._

After strapping up all the cash he can find and one failed phone call to his mother, Jughead books a bus ticket for Florida. He’s never been before, maybe he’ll finally get to see the ocean while he’s there.

Once he’s actually on the bus, he has half a mind to toss his phone out the window, but doesn’t. Jughead just turns it off and stuffs it into the bottom of his bag where he won’t have to think about it.

He forgets about his phone until nearly a month later.

He’s digging around in his bag, swears he has another shirt in there somewhere when it jumps out at him, its dark screen reflecting his own blank face. Jughead pulls it out, rubs his thumb over the smooth sides; he hasn’t spoken to anyone since he left Riverdale, hasn’t had a good enough reason to.

Being homeless in northern Florida is far different than being homeless in Riverdale, but manageable, nonetheless. Jughead is able to lie his way into a getting a construction job- all pay under the table and cash, no one bats an eye at his age. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t been picked up for truancy or being a runaway by now.  

He stares at his phone a while then drops it back into his bag, tries to put it out of his memory. Jughead gives it another day before deciding to turn it on, tells himself that it’s just to make sure his friends know that he’s okay- it’s not like anything worse could have happened while he was gone, right?

_Boy,_ was he wrong.  

There’re dozens of texts, most of them from his friends, all in variating levels of panic and capitalization, practically unable to sort through with how fast they’re coming in, so Jughead settles for listening to his voicemails instead.

There’s ten in total. All of them are from Archie, ranging from just a few days after he left and the latest being from sometime late the night before; the panic that settles in Jughead’s chest is familiar in the worst kind of way.

_“Jug. Jughead, where are you?”_ Archie’s crying terrified comes through the speakers. _“I-I know you’re mad but- shit, someone shot my dad, I need- I can’t, Jug, please- I’m sorry. I need you here.”_

That’s all he needs to hear, everything after that doesn’t matter. Miss. Grundy is dead. Fred got hurt- Archie _needs him_ , his time for holding grudges and being mad is well over.

Jughead doesn’t even get through the rest of Archie’s first voicemail when he’s all but running to the bus station, praying to god that he has enough money for a ticket. He’s fourteen dollars short, but the woman issues him a ticket anyway when he says it’s a family emergency. Jughead doesn’t even want to think about what he would have done had she shot him down.

It’s a ten and a half hour ride from Florida to Riverdale. Luckily for him, the bus is leaving within the next hour, but it’s going to be late by the time he finally gets into town. He takes a window seat near the front, groans to himself when an older gentleman decides to sit next to him and strike up a conversation. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be traveling alone, son?”

“Maybe.”

“Headed anywhere special?”

Jughead shrugs, “Just going home.”

He sticks his headphones in after that, hoping that the guy gets the hint and stops trying to talk to him. Jughead listens to the voicemails slowly over the course of the ride, hates himself for leaving when he hears how wrecked Archie is with each call.

_“Everyone is hurt or dying, Juggie, I can’t take it. I can’t do this.”_

He’s an hour away from town when he listens to the last one. Archie is quite obviously drunk and it’s dated from the day before he found his cell again- god, if only Jughead had picked up the phone, if only he’d just _fucking stayed._

_“Please, jus’ come home, Jug. I need you to come home. Need you here.”_

It’s eleven o’clock at night when they pull into the station and Jughead is the first one off the bus, already mapping out in his head the fastest route to Archie’s house from here. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, ten if he runs- he has to duck into a nearby bush and behind a tree when a squad car drives past him, god forbid one of them stop him and realize he’s been “missing” for the last month.

The whole street is dark when he arrives- as if the town is grieving something that can’t be replaced.

_How could so much go wrong in such a short period of time?_

Jughead slips in through the front door, his hopes of not getting caught being squashed when a woman’s voice comes from the kitchen. 

“Jughead?” Mary asks, already out of her seat. “Oh, hon. We were so worried.”

She hugs Jughead tight as she greets him in the foyer and Jughead lets her; he never minded how affection she was towards people. Mary steps back after a minute, one hand on the side of his face.

“Do I even want to know where you’ve been this last month?”

Jughead shrugs, mutters, “Probably not.”

She nods, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll figure something out with Sheriff Keller, alright?”

He nods back, “Mr. A, is he-?”

“He’s fine,” Mary assures him, leaving him a little less tense than before, “He’s going to be, with time, anyway. Fred’s upstairs sleeping, so is Archie.”

Jughead takes the hint; it’s like she read his mind, somehow. Mary squeezes his arm before letting him go.

“He’s going to be very glad to see you.” She tells him.  

_Yeah,_ Jughead thinks to himself _, I just hope he doesn’t hit me in the face for deserting him while he’s at it._ He goes up the hardwood stairs as quietly as he can, ignoring the third one from the top- that one always creaked no matter how many times Fred tried to fix it.

The door is ajar when he gets to Archie’s room- Jughead can see him under the covers, curled up on his side, wonders for a minute if he should have given Archie a heads up before just magically arriving at his house after being gone so long.

Jughead sits on the edge of the mattress, near the headboard, looking at Archie in bed- it’s so obvious that he’s been crying. His eyes are puffy and red in the low light of his room. Jughead can’t help himself as he traces his thumb across his freckled face, causing Archie’s eyes to flutter.

Jughead moves his hand down to his neck then onto Archie’s shoulder; Archie squints at him, eyes going from bleary to stunned in three seconds flat.

Archie’s voice cracks, “Be real… please, be real.”

“I’m here, Arch.” Jughead says, soft and quiet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Archie rolls over, hides his face in Jughead’s lap and cries for all it’s worth. He brings his hand to Jughead’s jean covered thigh, holding on for dear life, like he’s afraid he’ll disappear should he let go. Jughead moves his hand through Archie’s hair for a minute before deciding to kick off his shoes, sliding in under the covers until he and Archie are chest to chest.

Archie presses himself as close as he can to Jughead, his tears creating wet spots on the shoulder of Jughead’s shirt. He trembles uncontrollably as his emotions overwhelm him, speaking shakily as Jughead’s arms come around his waist.

“It hurts, Jug… it hurt so much w-without you.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Jughead says, holding the back of his head. “I just needed some time, but I’m back now, I swear.”

“Don’t leave- p-please, don’t leave again-.”

“ _I won’t,_ Archie. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Before long, Archie falls asleep, the first restful night that he’s had in more than a month. And Jughead holds him until the sun comes up, doesn’t dare move a muscle, making up for all his lost time. 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written QP jarchie in a while so hopefully I still did it right. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos/Comments are appreciated and encouraged. You can leave a prompt here if you want to. I'm on tumblr as archieandrewsprotectionsquad. Thanks again for reading, have a great day!


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